


What We're Left

by RavenMJagonshi



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alien anatomy, Alternate Timeline, Depression, Domestic, Fluff, Hermaphrodites, Homophobia, M/M, OFC - Freeform, Romance, Self-Denial, Size Kink, pseudo-mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:30:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenMJagonshi/pseuds/RavenMJagonshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the obscure and bittersweet events following the Cell Games, the thoughts of a certain monk as he comes to terms with what has been left for him and his friends, and his struggle to move on without his best friend. A late coming of age with an unusual pairing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving On; Oh Wait, You Don't Know How

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: DBZ and all of its characters belong to Akira Toriyama. I’m just borrowing them for a while.
> 
> ~Author’s Note~  
> This takes place in the obscure events after the end of the Cell Games. Yes, some of the ideas in this fic are from (and thus credit is being given to) the wonderful Authors Velasa and Onyx. After reading both fics I was hit with an inspiration that took control of my body and would not let me sleep until this got done. And I tried (and probably failed) to keep Piccolo in character as he is at the end of the Cell Games. So try to keep that in mind. Thanks.

When the dust finally cleared and I could see once again, everything seemed to stand still. It was almost as if time had stopped. There was no movement, no wind, not a sound. I couldn’t even hear my own ragged breath, or the pounding of my heart. All the pain I had felt only moments before vanished…in fact, my whole body felt numb. The glowing figure hovering about 400 feet in front of me flickered, then the light vanished and I floated paralyzed and watched my best friend’s son tumble to the ground. I still couldn’t feel anything, and only Piccolo’s baritone voice broke through my stunned haze.

“He-he did it. Cell’s energy has completely vanished.” I could see the sheer awe radiating from his very form.

“But…you mean we’re really safe again?” We had been fighting and training for so long the concept of safe just wouldn’t sink in.

I could hear Tien and Yamcha talking, but my hearing failed me again. I think I may have suffered some brain damage from the aftershock of Gohan’s attack. And from the sound of it, Gohan did too, because I have little doubt that he’s in pure agony and yet he’s laughing, laughing like it was some kind of hilarious joke. Kneeling beside him I can see the amount of damage he took. He really is something to still be awake after all that, I know I wouldn’t be. Hell, after that I’d be dead.

“Look at him. Looks like saving the world can take its toll on you.” Piccolo is standing behind me.

_Saving the world took its toll on all of us._

“Hey, Gohan. Let me ask you something. Were you holding back-a your power all that time just to scare us? ‘Cuse boy it worked. And don’t worry about those burses, Gohan. We’ll get Dende to fix you right up. You’ll feel like a zillion bucks.” There I am blabbing again. I can never find anything useful to do with my mouth save talk anymore.

“Hey I got ya big guy.” The way Yamcha picks him up I can see that he really is just a kid. _And that’s scary._

“S-sorry for the mess.”

_Shit! Spoke to soon._

“GOHAN!”

“Don’t worry Krillin, he’s just exhausted that’s all.”  

I picked up Eighteen as an afterthought as everyone took off. After a second, I notice Piccolo isn’t following. I stop and hover, turning back to catch sight of him engulfed in a blue light. I wait for him to catch up and bite my tongue before prying.

“You OK?” I honestly don’t expect an answer.

“Yeah.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After hearing my oldest friend say he would rather stay dead, I’m kind of at a loss. Yeah the world is safe, but it’s a bittersweet ending, or beginning depending on your take on life. Either way things will never be the same ever again. We all kind of stand in a stunned silence at the foot of an otherworldly wonder and none of us even notices it. We don’t notice a huge dragon hovering before us. We don’t notice the two green humanoids standing among us or the boy who claims he’s from the future. Hell, for that matter we don’t notice that this is all happening on a huge platform suspended miles in the air or that we all had to fly to get here. We don’t notice the fact that an eleven year old boy just proved that he’s the most powerful being in existence by saving the world, no, the universe yet again. We don’t notice anything, because we’re all trapped within our own minds, attempting to take in what we’ve just heard and what we must now live with.

My best friend is gone. And he wants to stay that way. I can’t fathom why he would want to do that. Why he would want to abandon his son and wife like that? Why would he want to abandon his friends like that? Why would he condemn the Earth like that? Does he hate us all that much? Is he afraid? The threat’s over Goku. Who else is going to come and destroy the Earth? The Saiyans are gone save Vegeta, Trunks and Gohan. Frieza AND his father are rotting in a pit somewhere in the Resira plateau; and the threat from the past, Gero and his creations have been wiped out thanks to your son. GOKU! WHAT IS THERE LEFT TO FEAR?!

Goku. You were all I had. When I left the Orange temple in search of Master Roshi, I had no intentions of going back; not that I really would have been able to. I gave up the only family I had ever known, my entire life, on a whim, and I was blessed to find you. You were my savior, Goku, and not just by saving me countless times. Throughout all of those crazy adventures, you kept me sane. You were always so happy, so brave, so confident, even in the toughest and hopeless of situations. And that gave me a target, that if you could live without fear or knowledge of your own limits then I could at least give it my all. And even if I failed, I always had you to tell me it was ok. Now what do I have? Your little boy? Goku, he’s just a kid, you can’t dump this on him. It doesn’t matter if he’s the strongest in the universe, he’s still a child and it our job to protect and fight for him. And I’m not strong enough to do that. Not physically, mentally or emotionally. Goku. I’m nothing without you. I can’t believe it took losing you to fully grasp that.      

“Your wish. Make it. It is time.”

Oh, right. We still have a wish left. Too bad we don’t have anything left to wish for.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Even as we all stand around cracking jokes a part of me is trapped within my head in disbelief over what has happened in my life. Years ago, all of this, these people and events that have become second nature to me, would have been a wild and crazy dream. Flying and fighting. Traveling the world and to other planets. Befriending aliens and taking on robots of death all while protecting the Earth and hanging out with my friends. Ha. You know you and your friends are crazy when your definition of a good time is fighting the strongest being in the universe on a planet that’s about to explode. But we’ve always been there for each other. Always. And we’ve always held onto that bond, reminds me of a family.

Since I’ve never really known my parents, I began to look to Master Roshi and Kami, my master and mentor, as surrogate fathers. They certainly cared about and treated me as if I was their son. We all started out as a mix of strangers, but we came to be a family. I have brothers and sisters that sometimes double as nagging moms, two dads and two nephews. As I think on my adopted family, I remember that I’m short a father figure, as Kami isn’t here…well sort of. I glance in Piccolo’s direction. No, he’s not really gone, just changed form in a way. At that, I wonder if Piccolo retained all of Kami’s memories, or just the important ones.

While training with the guys in preparation for the Saiyans, I confided a lot of my anxiety and fears in Kami. He would never detract from the real danger that lay ahead, but he also encouraged me to push further and reach for the impossible. I don’t think I would have improved as much as I did without his guidance, both in my training and as a person. I owe him a lot. My only fear now is that I might not get to thank him for everything he’s done.

From here I can see the tips of Piccolo’s ears turning purple. He does that sometimes when Gohan talks to him. I finally realize how long I’ve been staring as I find myself looking into eyes that hold more knowledge than I could learn in a lifetime. Something that I’ve noticed about Piccolo is that his eyes aren’t really black, their dark dark blue. Sometimes. Sometimes when he wants to scare the shit out of me, I catch a glint of gold from his Daimao days. But not now. Now they’re just blue. Blue that’s grinning at me. His lips still move in conversation with Gohan but I can see him regarding me. And in that instant, I see my old teacher’s aged face in that flawless sheen of green. 

I feel a slight weight on my shoulder and glance up to see the jolly green giant himself.

_Whoa! When did he get so close?!_

 “Kami, well, I…” I have NEVER seen Piccolo stutter, nor have I ever thought that he would be at a loss for words as he is now and I can’t keep my jaw from dropping a little. I receive a standard Piccolo glare with fanged snarl and all, but it seems to lack the usual callousness that everyone save Gohan saw. He sighs, antenna and pointed ears drooping as a hint of blush creeps onto the Namekian’s face. “We’re….I’m proud of you.” I guess he does remember me. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Just like when I was younger, I find myself staring at the night sky contemplating and over thinking things. In the days after Trunks left to go home, we all kind of went our separate ways. Tien and Chiaotzu disappeared into the wilderness again and Yamcha had an interview for a job as a personal trainer and is moving to South city. Gohan has been trapped inside by his She-beast of a mother hitting the books…hard. Vegeta mopes around Capsule Corp, Piccolo is staying at the lookout and I wind up back out here. I’m kind of at a loss as to what to do now. I’m in that limbo state where once you’ve completed a goal you’ve devoted your life to, you’re confused as to what to do next. The problem is, I’ve been doing martial arts for so long (ever since I can remember), I haven’t put any thought into what I want to do with my life when it’s over and done with. I’m at a cross roads. I have no idea where to go or what to do. I’ve been playing superhero so long, I’ve forgotten how to be a normal human; although being the strongest human alive kind of puts a damper on normal living anyway.

Power. Coming from the East.

Piccolo.

_What does he want? I guess I’ll find out._

He touches down about three feet away from me as I brace my arms behind me with my legs bent in the shape of a four. He is lack of his trademark turban and cape, making him look even more foreboding in the darkness.

“What’s up, big guy? Thought you were gonna stay with Dende.” A few years ago, I would have never attempted to sound so casual with the object of my worst fears, but then again, a few years ago he was still bent on killing Goku. Piccolo may have always terrified me, but he had this air about him, this kind of silent power and confidence that demanded respect. Even as Ma Junior I admired him for that.

“I needed some time away. Honestly I don’t know how Kami could stand him. He’s an obsequious toad.” I can feel the irritation coming from Piccolo as he walks towards me and sits lotus style with his arms crossed.

I let myself have a chuckle at that, knowing full well whom he’s referring to. Never thought I’d see the day that Piccolo pouted, because that is exactly what he’s doing.

“He’s just excited at having company again. I mean, after you left he was stuck up there all by himself. That and he’s not sure how to act around you. You’re Kami, but you’ve got the attitude of Piccolo. He’s just trying to be hospitable.”

“Whatever it is, it’s annoying.” I have a vision of a chibi Piccolo sitting in a corner with all of his toys taken away and I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

“You could stay here. For a while I mean. That is, if you don’t mind sharing a room. Umm…” I think I may have overstepped my boundaries a bit….or by a lot.

“Maybe.”

We sit in silence and I lay back down pillowing my head with my hands. As strange as it is to sit here and talk with Piccolo like this, it reminds me of doing the same thing with Kami on nights I couldn’t sleep. It’s hard to wrap my mind around that Piccolo and Kami are now one in the same. The warm heart of my teacher and father figure is now the cold and callous Namekian version of a much wiser Vegeta. Though the reason he chose me to come to is still…weird.  

“No offence, but why come here? I mean, I understand Chi-chi would forbid it, but why…”

“Let’s face it; I’m not exactly Mr. Popularity. Gohan is off-limits, Vegeta’s personality and mine match too closely for us to be anywhere near each other and I’m not exactly close with anyone else. Not to mention I used to be Piccolo Daimao.” He opened one eye and gave me a pointed look.

“Ha, Yeah. Seems so long ago now.” My chest wells up as a breath audibly escapes me. I guess he really is more Piccolo than Kami. It’s a depressing thought, but he’s still different from the Piccolo I knew before. In a way, it’s nice.

“I’ve never seen this side of you, Piccolo. You’ve never acted like this, save for around Gohan.”

“Ha, blame Kami; he was rather fond of you. And it seems to have rubbed off on me.” The amused, mischievous smirk that tugs on his lips as he speaks is a rare sight indeed. “I’m glad”.

“You two are really all I’ve got now.”

I barely catch his voice, as if I was never meant to hear it. The vibrations of it span out in all directions and are lost in the wisps of the ocean wind. His face is much younger than his comment suggests and with the starlight reflecting off of his skin he almost looks innocent. Yet his eyes and stoop of his posture shows age and weariness won by years of hard battles and toil. What he must have seen to make him look so old and be so young, what we’ve all seen, can make even the most naive of fighters into old men. Those horrors are something that cannot be forgotten, no matter how hard you try.

Things like watching your friends die one by one without having the strength or the courage to do anything about it. Things like lying in a heap without the strength to move and praying to a God who no longer lives that your death will be quick. Things like watching an entire race of innocent people being slaughtered for a glass orb. Things like seeing thousands of people be turned into piles of goo and be…..sucked up and ‘eaten’ by a monster. Try as I might, I’ll never forget those things.

And I’ll never forget the look on Gohan’s face as he watched his dad disappear, just as I’ll never forget Piccolo’s scream as he took the Saiyan’s blast head on, or the tears Vegeta shed as he asked, no, begged Goku to kill Frieza for what he had done to their people. Seeing the best of the best, the strongest fall to such lows can make for one doozy of a wakeup call and make you realize how utterly weak and insignificant you really are.

Things like that you don’t forget.

 Things like that haunt you in the dead of night and make your chest squeeze into a ball in an eternal ache.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We all were once enemies, or at least rivals of some kind, but we all came together when the need arose and formed a kind of bond. From fighting alongside one another for so long, I’ve even felt as though we’ve become this really big, and not to mention strange and mismatched, family. We’ve come to protect one another as we would our own, and in a way, I think what we have between us runs thicker than even blood.  Though now, the pillar that stood at our center, the glue that originally brought us together in the first place, Goku, is now lost forever. We all took an unexpected blow, and I’m not sure how we’re all going to deal with it. We have to stick together. We’re all a family now, and though they will never admit it, I think Piccolo and Vegeta see things the same way.

As the sky begins to color in the pre-dawn light, I’m struck by the memory of my childhood days of delivering milk with Goku. The nonsensical patterns and intense training that was meant to teach us endurance, concentration and discipline (though I didn’t understand it at the time) brings a grin to my scarred lips. I miss those days of hard training and hot summer sea air that was so thick you could taste it. I miss Launch’s cooking, and cooling off after dinner with a swim in the ocean, searching for sea shells and rocks. Where the only thing we had to worry about were training and getting stronger for the next Tenkaichi Budokai, where there was no more danger than The Red Ribbon Army. Days where Goku and I laughed and played as children should. But we’re not kids anymore. We’re not going off on adventures searching for the dragon balls and knocking around Pilaf anymore. We were fighting for our lives these past battles, and without the dragon balls, some of us would have lost.

I envy Gohan and our Trunks, ya’know. Admittedly Gohan went through the same stuff we did, but he is still a kid, and it was our job to protect him, not the other way around. He can be carefree and innocent with no more worries than getting an education and just being a kid. He’s matured a lot since I met him seven years ago, almost too much for his eleven years. There are things he’s seen, we’ve all seen, that no one should have to endure. But it was necessary; we had to see, because we had to fight, because the burden fell on us, because there was no one else it could fall on. It was our job, because no one else could do what we did and even though we won, there have been many more than just a handful of innocents lost in this seemingly endless epic battle.

But it has ended.

Because Gohan won. He outdid himself. He outdid us all.

“That was a very brave thing you did back there.”

_What?_

”Very brave and very kind.”

_What are you talking about, big guy?_ _Oh, her._

“Anyone else would have simply killed her to be done with it. But you were filled with compassion, something that real warriors can’t afford, and that is why you fail.” Standard Piccolo: a compliment hidden by an insult. Though I can’t help but feel as though he, or Kami (or both), is trying to teach me something, help me improve. And I know he’s right. My less than brutal strategies while fighting have always been a major cause of my limits; though being human is a factor too. We can’t all be as compassionate as Goku with the strength to back it up if things go astray; though I certainly tried.  

“Though, I am beginning to see the flaws in our way of thinking…and it is good to know that that kind of kindness in a warrior did not vanish with Goku.” That got my attention. Did he just admit that his and Vegeta’s styles were wrong?

I almost spoke up. _Gohan feels and acts the same_. That’s when it hits me. Gohan never fought because he wanted to. Not like Piccolo, Vegeta and Goku fought, for the thrill and need for it. Gohan fought because he had to. Because he knew people, people he loved, were going to die if he didn’t. Gohan may be a Saiyan, but he’s different from them. He has this kind of innocence and joyfulness that not even Goku possessed. He’s the kind of person who draws people to them without even trying and can melt even the hardest of hearts. Piccolo is living proof of that. No, Gohan’s not a true fighter and won’t continue martial arts like us.

That when it hits me that I’m one of the last warriors the Earth has. Vegeta and Piccolo will continue to train of course, and Tien and Chiaotzu will always be out there hoping to catch up, but Yamcha won’t. He’ll most likely settle down somewhere now that we finally have a time of peace. And everyone else is either retired, an imbecile, or still a child.

Suddenly I don’t feel so insignificant anymore.

I step off of the roof of the house I grew up in and float silently to the sand below. No, we aren’t kids anymore; we’ve seen too much, experienced too much life to have any resemblance of innocence left. We can never go back to those days; we just have to deal with what we got.

All we can do is hold onto one another and look to the future, because all we have now is each other.  The main support is gone, so to keep the structure from falling, the ropes need to intertwine themselves with one another, and I’m making the first attempt.

I don’t hear anything save the ocean waves and the wind. I’ll give a ten count before I go inside.

One

Two

I can hear the call of the gulls flying over head as the sun barely breaks the top of the ocean.

Three

Four

I bet Master Roshi is gonna yell at me again for staying up all night.

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Ni-

I hear a faint thump of something heavy land on the sand behind me.

~END~


	2. A Fresh Start; Gift From An Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I often question my choice to become a monk, as though I may have missed out on something. Days like this though, I am reminded why I live on a tiny island in the ocean with only an old pervert and an ancient turtle for company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer – Same as before, I don't own DBZ, its characters nor its affiliations. This is purely for fun and to practice my writing skills.
> 
> FYI, yes this is evolving into a slash (Piccolo/Krillin). Ah yes, something I forgot to mention in chapter one. Italics are direct thoughts, or flashbacks if indicated, Quotations signify speaking, ‘single quotations’ signify speaking through a mental link (such as Piccolo and Dende, or when Kami and Nail “speak”).

_ Chapter Two: A Fresh start: Gift from an old friend.  _

“AHHHHHH! KRILLIN!”

Why is it that not only do I have to wake up after only a few hours of sleep (though it’s my own damn fault for staying up) but I have to wake up to _that?_

That panicked shout that is more a girlish scream than anything I’ve ever heard from Bulma. That panicked shout that is laced with only a hint of accusation.

I can already feel a headache starting as I blindly grope my way out of bed and promptly fall flat onto the living room rug?

_Why am I on the cou-? Oh, right._

“KRILLIN!”

I rub my eyes to get some semblance of sight back and disentangle myself from my heap of blankets. I shuffle barefoot to the end of the stairs and brace myself in the frame to keep from falling over. I raise my eyes and level what I hope is a menacing glare (though at this time in the morning it might be more of a hung-over look) at the old man standing on the landing above me. Even at this hour, Roshi is wearing his trademark shades, t-shirt and shorts, but he’s missing the flip-flops.

“What.”

Yeah. There was no question in that. I’m not awake enough to be able to formulate a question.

“P-p-p-pic-ic….”

Great. Now he’s stuttering. At least it’s an improvement over the shouting. I think.

“Pic…what?”

Damn. I’m waking up. That one was defiantly a question.

“Pic- in your bed. Room, why, I, favor- and….” His hand is trembling as he points in the general direction of the room I didn’t sleep in last night. I shuffle up the stairs and sidestep the terrified old man as I make my way to my “temporary room”. _Yeah, indefinitely temporary._

As I push open the door that stood slightly ajar, I am blinded by the blast of sunlight coming from the open window that can rival Teinshinhan’s best Solar Flare. _Maybe Roshi has the right idea with those shades._ When my eyes clear, I am graced with the sight of a half-awake, irritated Namekian who appeared to have been startled out of bed. Piccolo was sitting on the floor, left leg bent in an arch and his right bent horizontal. The blanket is caught on the bed and is draped across his lap and right shoulder. I’m on the receiving end of a sleepy glare.

“Krillin! What’s Piccolo doing here?! I was going to wake you up and ask you a favor and I find him here. What’s going on??!”

Yeah, shouting at me is going to answer your question faster. _Owwwww. My head._  

I turn to address my teacher, who now has the courage to venture close to the doorway now that I’m in between him and imminent death, and catch sight of a distinctly Roshi sized hole in the wall beside the door that I can’t believe I missed on the way up. My guess is Piccolo is not a morning person. Then again, had I not been used to it, waking up to the sight of Master Roshi would make me a little grumpy too.

“He’s…visiting,” is the only explanation I’m able to come up. “What was it that you wanted me to do?” The quicker I comply with his request, the quicker I can go back to driving that tricked out Jaguar with the top down with a hot supermodel, who surprisingly doesn’t look like Eighteen, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Oh, I wanted you to pick up a few groceries on account of this being a base of operations for the past few weeks.”

The man may be the one who trained me, but he’s crazy if he thinks I’m going all the way to town this early.

“Fine.” I hate myself sometimes. “What do we need?” As I follow him downstairs, I mentally remind myself to add Excedrin to whatever list he has for me.

“Oh, just a few things.” Sounds so innocent. I meet him in the kitchen and he unrolls a list so long it looks as though it should be in the Son household than here. I take the list from him and begin scanning the top.

_Eggs. Milk. Bread. Cereals. Pickles. Potatoes. Canned Peas. Soap, laundry detergent, roofing shingles, light bulbs….wait, roofing shingles?_ To be honest, I expected to be out of well, everything, but really, roofing shingles. What were they doing up on the roof…training?

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and resign myself to a full day of shopping. _Thank Kami Yamcha let me keep the plane._ _When I planned to do something with the rest of my life, this is NOT what I had in mind, old man!_

I trudge over to the pantry, flinching in expectation of a food avalanche that I know isn’t coming, but I suppose old habits die hard and living with Goku for so long as a kid, you get used to there being massive quantities of food around. I blink a few times at the massive emptiness. I’m almost half expecting there to be cobwebs and dust to signify that it’s been unused for a number of years, but the only thing I see is an old box of raisins tucked in the corner. I sigh and reach for it, hoping to get some nutrients out of the shriveled fruit before I start on my daily hunt.

As I roll up the list and start to walk out the door with a mouth full of moldy raisins and not nearly enough cash to stock up, the phone rings. Of course, Roshi won’t pick it up, that’s my job. I grumble as I swallow the lump down and brace myself for a telemarketer.

“Yo, Krillin here.” I briefly notice Piccolo’s energy take off to the west as a woman’s voice comes through the line.

“Krillin, this is perfect. You’re just the one I wanted to talk to. “

“Hey Bulma. Didn’t we just see each other a day or two ago? What could have changed that quick?” It’s not that I’m not thrilled to hear from her, now that everyone has gone their separate ways; I didn’t expect to see anyone for a while.

“ Oh very funny. Hey listen, can you come by later today? I really need your input on something I’ve been working on for a while.”

_Actually, that’s not bad; I can stop there on my way back from the store_.

“Yeah, sure. I’m actually heading out that way today anyway. The guys really cleaned us out. Roshi’s got me on shopping duty.” I can’t help but let a little resentment into me voice as I remind myself of the chore set today.

“Perfect. Trust me on this, you’ll enjoy this one. I’ll see you around two or so then? Bye”

“See ya.” I let the receiver click back into the stand and mull things over. I’m not sure what’s worse, being Roshi’s golden retriever, or Bulma’s guinea pig.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time I land in from of Capsule Corp. I’m already irritated beyond belief at the idiocy of some store managers. How hard is it really to comprehend the phrase ‘I need six galleons of laundry detergent’? The way he acted, you’d think I’d asked for canned steamed kiwi bird, or that I had a meth lad set up somewhere. I often question my choice to become a monk, as though I may have missed out on something. Days like this though, I am reminded why I live on a tiny island in the ocean with only an old pervert and an ancient turtle for company.

I knock on the front door and an immediately greeted by the sight of Bulma’s mother. You know, I’ve never really understood how a woman like Bunny could produce a child like Bulma; they are almost exact opposites in terms of personality. “Oh Krillin, It’s so good to see you dear! How about some cake and tea while you wait for Bulma? No no, I won’t take no for an answer, come on in.” I love Bunny; she’s one of the kindest people I have ever had the fortune to meet. In fact, part of the reason I was so infatuated with Bulma as a child was because I wanted Bunny as a mother-in-law. Oh well, at least I can laugh at the fact that now she coddles Vegeta. _Ha! The Saiyan prince being stuffed full of tea and sweet and being forbidden from training_. I have to seriously bite my lip to keep from laughing then.

Bunny leads me into the kitchen and sets me down with a piece of a triple lemon and orange meringue cake with a cup of black tea (my personal favorite).”Thank you, but it isn’t…” I have really got to get out of the habit of denying myself these sweets. I know Bunny gets joy out of it, but I really don’t think it’s necessary to do this for me. “Nonsense, you need someone to look after you. I really can’t believe that you live out there on that island all alone. It’s not right.” I can feel myself blushing now. I don’t actually live alone, but I got tired of correcting her. What I wouldn’t give for some sort of companionship (Roshi no longer counts, dirty old man)? My response is interrupted by a cracking cry over the baby monitor and Bunny rushes off to sooth baby Trunks. I grin when I hear her yell at Vegeta for bothering the baby and Vegeta in return complaining that he won’t grow up like a man if she continues to coddle him. _Ah, Vegeta, that’s one battle not even Goku could win._ At the thought of my best friend my mouth goes dry and I have difficulty swallowing my bit of cake. I grab my cup of tea and begin to gulp it down and end up early choking.

“You know that is not the proper way to drown yourself, right?”

I spin around so fast I’m surprised the centrifugal force didn’t set me on my backside. Bulma is standing in the doorway to the kitchen in her usual orange jacket and blue jeans with a sad look on her face. “I know my mom likes to stuff people with sweets, but is it really that bad?” She gives me an understanding smile. I think it’s an unspoken agreement that none of us talks about what happened little over a week ago. “Forget the tea, come here. I want you to see this.” I nod, place my dishes in the sink and follow Bulma into the basement lab.

We stop in a small room that seems to be entirely filled with huge processing computers, blueprints and half finished projects; some of which I’m not even sure what they are supposed to do.

“So, even with everything going on, you still managed to keep working?” I’m actually kind of stunned at that kind of dedication to a project. 

“Yeah well, you know my dad, always working even if the Earth could blow up any minute. He’s actually finished a new design for the capsule house line, but he needs someone to test and review it before he can put it into production.”

She hands me a prototype advertising pamphlet that shows a pretty decent sized dome house with a number of different housing styles, furniture themes and appliances. Bulma continues with her description as I flip through it wishing I could afford something like it. “This one is rather different because the wallpaper is projected, so they can be changed whenever. It also has an automatic system that taps into the ground water and the entire roof is fitted with Plexiglas backed photovoltaic sheets. It’s entirely solar powered and the fireplace and hydropower furnace keep it temperature regulated. It’s entirely self-sufficient; about the only thing it can’t do is stock up on food, but that seems to be your job.   It’s kind of Dad’s prized project and he wants someone we know to try it out…”

I’m hit by a vague memory of the house Bulma used on namek and am lost in a day dream of owning such an extravagant house before her words finally sink in.

“Wait, so you’re just going to give it to me? “ _Did I hear her right?_ I really don’t think my eyes could have gotten any wider.

“Yeah. Capsule regulations say I need to present a thorough quality evaluation from an unbiased third party before I can send it in for processing and…”

I really stopped listening after the confirmation. _My own house? Alone? Without Roshi? No extra bills or other finances to worry about? I’ll have to scrape up what savings I have, get a resume together, get a job. Just enough to buy food and gas for the plane…  Is it really that easy?_ I really had not imagined that starting off on my own would be this simple.

“So will you do it? I really need some feedback…” I couldn’t even let her finish…

Had Vegeta been around, he may have killed me, but I was too thankful and happy to care. I picked her up, swung her around and planted one on her cheek. While she was stunned, I grabbed the ‘mega-capsule’ from her hand and ran out the door, with a shouted “Thank You!” I almost missed the awkward reply.

“Oh…kay. Um…bye?”

I could not wait to get back to Roshi’s (so glad I can finally not call it home) and pack. This was the start of a brand new chapter. Gohan was right; this IS the start of the rest of my life.

*~End~*


	3. Nostalgia and Contemplation; Piccolo Carries On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Retrospection and history. Years upon years in the Yunzibut Mountains with none but the occasional migrating birds and mountain goats that called the high plateaus home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is in Piccolo’s POV and it is the first time I’ve done so. I’m keeping him as close to in character as he is at the end of the Cell Games, so please keep this in mind while reading. Disclaimer: I don’t own DBZ, I’m not making any money, etc, etc…
> 
> FYI: Yes, It will become a Yaoi; although it is currently just lots of angst and fluff.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*-Break-~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Water.

Absolutely nothing but the sound of water and the wind.

Not even the creatures that normally call this place home make any sound, least not anything loud enough for even my heightened hearing to pick up. It’s as if they have become acclimated to my presence over the years I’ve been returning to this spot. I’ve grown quite attached to this place; I spent a great deal of time here while I prepared to face Son and when I trained Gohan.

_Gohan, you’ve no idea how proud I am…you’ve grown into more than I ever thought possible._

It is strange to think about the events that took place to create the present situation…this hard won time of peace. The endless training, the constant fear over-shadowing everything, the nagging at the back of our minds when we had nothing to distract ourselves.   

I almost miss the constant threat of world destruction…at least then there was something to work towards. Not now though….now, there is nothing, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I am no longer the guardian of the Earth, I am no longer required to protect the Earth from strife…I am no longer needed to teach and watch over my son… _Wonder what he’d would say if he knew I thought of him like that…_

The others, they had lives before this, reasons to continue this miserable existence, reasons that made their existence less miserable. I had nothing, and in truth, have nothing save Gohan. I was born with a single purpose, and throughout the years, I neglected that purpose for a greater good, to fight a common enemy. It would seem that I have put off my destiny so long it has become moot. My soul purpose was taken from me, though reflecting on it now, I have my doubts that it would have ever come to fruition. My whole life I had considered myself a demon spawn, something that had crawled out of the bowels of Other World to wreak havoc on existence. Cliché, yes, but I had nothing but the humans to base my knowledge on. They treated me like an animal, so I became one, fueled by my father’s memories and hatred of Goku.

_Goku…_

I had begun to think of him as an ally, as someone I could trust to treat me as though I were normal. _Though, considering Goku’s naiveté, he may have though I was…he never was too bright._ I am eternally thankful that Gohan did not inherit his father’s intelligence _...or lack thereof._ The kid is far too perceptive for his own good, far too intelligent, far too powerful… _and far too innocent with everything that he’s seen._ There is much about the humans that I don’t understand, but I have seen a great deal, seen what these idiots do to one another. I have seen the darkest of not only the humans but of the universe and even I cannot call myself a monster in comparison. Not that many people do considering some of the other creatures who pass among them. Enough time has passed to ensure that the menace of Piccolo Diamao has ceased to strike fear in the hearts of the masses and being in association with Son I can walk the Earth without worry, drawing only fascination at my appearance and dress.

Even still, I have nowhere to go now, save the lookout, and though it warms my spirits to hear about my native people, there is only so much I can stand. I have always lived in solitude; I have no patience with people outside of battle, with the exception of Gohan. Kami’s fondness for the obsequious black balloon has all but been consumed by my irritation for it. I’ve no other…well, maybe.

It’s been bugging me for ages now, this tidbit of knowledge that I’ve tucked away. Or rather, tidbit of Kami’s knowledge, but as time wears on it seems that the separation between myself and Kami (and Nail) is collapsing. That, or Kami as a distinct personality is fading…it has gotten to the point where I’m not even sure what memories are mine and which are his. I have existed physically for only 16 years, but my mind…my mind is far older than I feel. I remember things long before my physical birth, things back in the Yunzubut Mountains, of splitting in two, of growing old and watching the Earth struggle to defend itself from outside (and sometimes internal) threats all targeting one individual. I remember Namek, and the effort to rebuild after the Great Disaster that only Elder Guru survived. I remember training Gohan and Dende, but at the same time, I remember training Yamcha, Tien and Krillin.

I can feel myself fall out of my meditation at the thought of the monk. He’s really the cause of all of this confusion. I honestly don’t know what to make of this situation, let alone how to handle it or even how I feel about it.

The monk and Goku have been joint at the hip nearly their entire lives, and as such, he has always been at the periphery of my gaze. It was not hard to find the young Buddha nearby when Son’s name was whispered. Always present, but melding into the background and falling short of coming to the forefront of battle. Support, a healer and occasionally a forerunner trapped in the heat of battle.

He was always just…there. Annoying, often funny when scared shitless, but nevertheless just kind of…there. He was never the strongest, never really a significant threat, nor so overtly weak that he required saving constantly. _Okay, so maybe he needed saving a lot, but less often than other individuals._ And he has a habit of coming up with new attacks that even have me surprised, focusing more on wit and intelligence to win out against stronger opponents. And I’ll be the first to admit he’s one of the fastest of the group. Even Vegeta has to struggle in order to keep up with the monk. He’s fast, but he lacks actual power, but still, for a human and all of their limitations, he far exceeds what he was meant for. Had this planet not been under Freezia’s radar, had the Saiyans missed it, overlooked it, he would have been the only saving grace these people had, besides myself. I would be lying if I said it would have been a dishonor. Although I would have been savior and oppressor in one, but all the same.

Lingering thoughts and memories cloud my mind’s eye as I desperately grasp at a sense of calm. Images and words flicking in and out of the forefront of my thoughts; every meeting, every interaction gone over, analyzed, examined, subtexts unraveled, and still I can scarcely believe that this has happened.

Love and affection have never been prevalent in my life. Years upon years in the Yunzibut Mountains with none but the occasional migrating birds and mountain goats that called the high plateaus home. Twice a year they flew by, never stopping for more than a day or two before continuing on their journey. When I was young, I use to think that the birds were magical because they could fly; they came from somewhere else and went somewhere else. They were different from the goats and I (although I was different from both of them), they were not trapped in the barren land that haunts my dreams even now. The crippling isolation; while I have grown accustomed to and even prefer it now, then, it was my bane, my fear. To a child, even a child of Namek, abandonment is the worst feeling, the greatest betrayal. Year after year I asked the birds to take me with them…they never granted my wish, and over time I grew to hate them. I feared their arrival every fall and spring, and chased them and threw stones at them when they landed. When a young hatchling met the brunt of my anger, it ceased to be. I begged the little bird’s forgiveness and buried it overlooking the drop off.

This was the origin of the great anger, the great evil that barred my initial appeal to the guardian of Earth. This was my first taste of doubt, of feeling unworthy, monstrous.

‘ _Losing focus over someone other than Gohan? Piccolo, I believe you are developing a heart.’_ There is no tangible voice that can be heard (I am not a schitsophenic) but I growl at the thought anyway. While Kami and Nail as individual entities no longer exist in any natural sense, their memories and distinct personalities linger like a bad smell. I have been finding that my subconscious has taken on their characteristics and have developed a nagging commentary to my life. The worst part being that I cannot argue back as I would be arguing with myself as opposed to a separate individual living inside my head and that would mean I have finally lost my sanity.

Not that qualifying all of this to myself is any better…

‘ _We’ve just overcome a great threat and have attained a moment of peace. It is not surprising that I cannot keep focused’_

I hear a distinctly Kami sounding chuckle from the depths of my mind. I cringe again and fall back into my meditative state.

_‘You crave Gohan’s attention, affection. You call him friend, but is he alone…?’_

As my body hit the water I knew it was going to be a long afternoon.

[i.e. He fell out of meditation so hard he actually fell into the pool beneath]    

*~*~*~*~*Krillin’s POV*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time I get back to Kame house, I’m more than ecstatic. As usual, I find my former Master lounging in the sun with a women’s fitness magazine. Some things don’t ever change. I spend the next twenty minutes unpacking groceries and making sure everything that needs to goes in the refrigerator and freezer before I leave the rest. I bound up the stairs two at a time and burst into my room, making a beeline for the closet and my suitcase. I might be a geek, but I don’t own very much; just the necessities for civilized life and a few mementoes.

In the back of my closet, there are a few odds and ends tucked secretly away in a box.

My old turtle shell, the turtle insignia rock that smelled of oranges ( _not that I could smell it, it probably smelled more like me now anyway_ ), a map Goku and I drew of our training route so I wouldn’t get lost ( _he always teased me about my poor sense of direction_ ), an empty soap box ( _I thought I would never be clean again_ ), a snapshot of Master Roshi in Jackie Chun’s clothes ( _taken by Yamcha and given to us after the tournament),_ a lagoon blue paint chip, a name card from the 22nd Tenkaichi Budokai, and Piccolo’s weighted cap from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai. These things were piled on the top, separated from everything else by an old turtle gi that no longer fits. Under it are more memories…darker.

A bloodstained cuff weight, Gohan’s hat sans the four-star dragonball, a scouter, Piccolo’s tattered belt, a rock and my Saiyan armor from Namek, a broken Dragon Radar, a dried senzu bean, the empty Black Water Mist sacred jar, some computer parts and a bright red button, and a microchip with two capital R’s written in white on a red helix. Small tokens, small pieces of times that have engraved themselves into my subconscious. Pieces of my past.

I’ve always been a bit sentimental, but perhaps that was due to becoming a monk at such a young age. As a Buddhist, things aren’t important, but I’ve always been a bit unconventional. I don’t covet possessions exactly, but memories stored in physical objects. Maybe I’ll give some of it to Gohan when he’s older and has had time to move on. I place everything back into the box and set it beside my empty suitcase. I start rolling up my clothes and packing them away. Old training gi’s, some street clothes, a seafoam jacket, my white suede hat and dress shoes (still can’t believe they survived), and other clothes. It’s only partway full when I finish. I know I can’t leave just yet, but I want to be packed and ready.

I turn to the bed and am only slightly startled to see the sheets rumpled and hanging off the side. I set to tidy them when a shade of wood brown makes me kneel and reach under the fallen sheet.

 Piccolo’s shoes.

I frown, bewildered and now in the possession of a pair of shoes that I cannot wear and am not sure if I should return. I mean, the guy can create clothing out of nothing. _Doesn’t that break the laws of physics? Wait, doesn’t nearly everything we do beak the laws of physics? Like flying, and supersonic speed and teleportation? Note to self, check up on that._

I finish making the bed and store everything else in the box and leave my suitcase open.

I flop down on the floor and start making a list of everything that I need to do before I can actually find a decent place.

_I’ll need to scout out a suitable place or find an empty plot in the city. Nah, I’m a monk and a hermit, I’ll deal. Besides, I won’t have to buy the plot and pay city taxes that way. Someplace with water, and close to the sea if funds get low. Big enough for a short runway and enough sun. Water, wait no, a river…a delta. Island or mainland? Mainland would be closer to the city, cut down on gas and time. Krillin! You can fly, stupid! The plane is for hauling stuff. But it would be weird to just fly into work, I’ll need to be careful not to be seen by pep…_

And then it hits me…

_I have never held down a proper job. Fuck._

*~*~*~*~*Piccolo’s POV*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Everything comes back to this. Everything. I don’t know what my purpose is anymore. I don’t know what comes after this. Peace without a latent threat. Peace without a goal. My only interaction with civilization besides the Tenkaichi Budokai was attempting to placate Son’s wife and getting a driver’s license. _That, of course, went over real well. Though I recall doing rather well._ Not that I couldn’t get one now, but there isn’t a real reason to. I don’t live within the confines of human society. Again, not that I couldn’t, I just…don’t. I had the excuse of not knowing, but as I am no longer a spawn of a cast-off, I distinctly remember watching and learning all of human nature; good and evil. I know how to be human, in theory…but I’m **_not_** human. I am more removed from humans than the Saiyans are (or were).

I’ve taken to rolling the tips of my antenna between my fingers. As a child, it calmed me when I was overcome with blinding rage or scathing loneliness. Dende caught me once (a scant moment of weakness) and blushed profusely before turning away. When I merged with Nail, I remembered everything he had, but time had caused my memories to fade and only those pertinent to my current life remained. It took much needling and false starts before Dende finally admitted that it was a form of self-pleasure. I thought it was obvious until I understood his meaning. While in adolescence, Nameks undergo a development of what humans call secondary sexual organs. It really is just a lengthening of the urinary duct from a small nub to something resembling a penis with a series of hypersensitive glands to monitor the body’s chemistry through waste water. Until this development, to relieve stress, young Namekian children play with their less sensitive antennae. _I cannot believe I was **masturbating** in front of Dende!_ The whole ordeal was humiliating, but I can’t exactly be blamed for not understanding Namek cultural cues having not been raised in the environment.

Now, alone, I do it whenever my frustration takes the reins of my emotions. It doesn’t hold the same significance it holds for Dende, and therefore causes me no guilt or shame. I shouldn’t need this, shouldn’t be so anxious about what happens now. Life goes on as it would always go on, but I am still lost. I can’t just…exist, can I?

What do people do in their lives? How do they…exist? Work? Only to earn money to pay for goods and services, unnecessary. Family? Besides Dende, I am the only one of my kind on Earth…and I have no immediate desire to raise another brat. Friends? Are they my friends? Gohan is, but is that all? What about the Monk?

We have never been more than unintended allies. Nothing more than coming together to fight a common enemy. We never had close contact, but still, he’s the closest thing I have to a friend besides Gohan, now that Goku has passed on. And it is still strange to think anyone would want to know me; I still have difficulty accepting that Gohan became my friend. I wouldn’t trade him for the world, but it’s been so ingrained in me that I’m something to be feared. What do the others think of me? An ally? An enemy? A shield, protector…a friend? I am not starting from nothing, but I don’t know what my place is with these people. What am I?

*~End*~


End file.
